


The Knight (and friends) before Christmas

by PlaguedQuillfeathers (PlagueBirbizzle)



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cassie Lang has a lot of fans (tm), Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Let them be happy!, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Relationship, a little bit of canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28215855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueBirbizzle/pseuds/PlaguedQuillfeathers
Summary: When Cassie wishes for the Christmas Knight and his merry band of friends to visit her instead of Santa Claus, Scott calls in a few favors and bakes a few cookies.Besides, ’Tis the season!
Relationships: Scott Lang/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15
Collections: Star Spangled Secret Santa 2020





	The Knight (and friends) before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordsmisleadinghere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmisleadinghere/gifts).



> This is my Star-Spangled Secret Santa gift! Many thanks to those who beta'd and Happy Holidays to everyone.  
> Enjoy! ♥

Cassie Lang had grown used to the weird and wonderful. In fact, she’d entirely embraced it once her father managed to have a “real life superhero fight” within her bedroom. Sure, she’d been asked to keep what she saw to herself, only animatedly retelling the tale at the dinner table whenever she had the chance too, but the knowledge that it was real had been enough.

Besides, the weird and wonderful had become more than normal in her household.  
  
Yet, as her father seemed to be stuck within his own home, causing her to visit often, she found herself wondering just what had happened to make him stay inside. He’d explained the fancy bracelet around his ankle just fine — saying that the suited men used it to make sure he stayed inside — but she could not help but frown at how awful they were for keeping him inside. _It’s Christmas soon, dad! We should be out making snow-ants with Antonio._

The words, however, would always be dismissed with a small smile and a promise to fix that soon. Cassie, ever so trusting, truly hoped it would be before the snow melted; _soon_ , after all, was relative.

The house did have its perks, though. For one, seeing her dad often was enough of a guarantee for an afternoon full of fun, imagination and stories galore. When she was not busy crawling through the most recent cardboard creation they had made together, she was more than willing to snuggle under the covers and listen to his stories. From tales of giant men getting toppled by tiny little spiders, to a blonde knight saving his friends from an underwater castle, she was awestruck, if not inspired. 

Besides, who wouldn’t enjoy meeting such a brave knight and his many friends, from young witches to winged wonders, protecting the kingdom for an unknown king’s mean words _and_ saving Christmas? Not her, at least.  
  
Which only led to her taking the stories to have some sort of validity in reality, mind drifting into slumber, but heart genuinely in the right place. “Dad...The Christmas knight is way cooler than Santa.” Sleepy words were soon followed by a yawn, causing a chuckle to form from the elder, but Cassie continued murmuring as if it never occurred. “Can he come drop off my gifts instead? I’ll leave milk and cookies for him and his friends too.”  
  
They’d baked a good batch earlier in the afternoon at her request; she had skills.  
  
“If you’re good, maybe he’ll appear.” She’d missed the uncertainty in her father’s voice, already smiling at the prospect of meeting him. “But you have to promise that you’ll be good, Peanut? Promise?”  
  
“Pinky promise...With a cherry on top.” Surely the knight wouldn’t hide like Santa, right? She could sneak downstairs and catch him in the act. _And it wouldn’t count, since naughty lists start after Christmas!_

_Smart, right? Right._

“Then maybe he will...Just maybe.” 

It was all the confirmation she needed. 

* * *

_You shouldn’t promise big things, Scott!_ _  
_ _  
_ He could almost hear Hope’s exasperation through his inner voice as he paced back and forth, potentially making a solid line in the carpet with each turn, but he couldn’t shake the idea from his mind, no matter how outrageous it sounded.  
  
He may have stayed away from going big these days, but that didn’t help when he had already gone home. 

The Raft had been absolute dogshit — there was no doubt about it — but once he’d heard the sirens and seen Steve's silhouette appear like a goddamn guardian angel, it all felt a little more worth it. Sure, he was a little dehydrated and a lot more annoyed by the actual existence of an underwater super-prison, but they’d escaped with their gear and each other; that was all that mattered.

And then he’d gone home.

Perhaps it would have been better to stay on the run with the rest, or go underground like Wanda did, but Scott had immediately identified with Clint’s concerns the moment they’d been addressed: _Would Ross go after their families?_  
  
Thus, he’d turned himself in, cut contact with the Pyms and learned card tricks in a self-imposed house arrest, with the latter only causing pain in the form of paper cuts.

It hadn’t been _that bad_ , he had to admit; in fact, he’d call it far more comfortable than prison or super-underwater-prison by miles, which was an immediate win in his book. Once they added on that he’d be able to have visitors, the decision felt better than anything he’d ever imagined, taking each afternoon with Cassie with a seriousness he was sure Maggie found refreshing.  
  
_Turning a new leaf. Multiple leaves, in fact._ _  
_ _  
_ _Maybe._

An old, dinged up phone on the mantelpiece buzzed once, indicating what had to be a message; given that it was the sound that made him leave his pacing line, he had been waiting for whoever chose to speak on the other side.

Scott wasn’t disappointed by what he read. 

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] Hey Tic Tac. Saw your message. What’s up?**

Grinning, he flopped onto the couch, fingers tapping furiously as he built up a reply. He’d expected Sam to be on, given that Cap tended to prefer physical calls, but he did fumble on what to reply with. The Falcon was really cool, after all - hell, he was the guy who even thought of him as a good fit for Captain America’s cool team.

_The coolest team. Captain America’s coolest team!_

He hit send.

**[YOU:] :) Hey!** **  
** **[YOU:] Nothing much.  
****[YOU:] :D**

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] Really.**

**[YOU:] Yes. Nothing at all.** **  
** **[YOU:] Quick question, though, how do you feel about knights?**

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] Tic Tac** **  
** **[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] What’s wrong?**

**[YOU:] Nothing, I swear!** **  
** **[YOU:] Just asking.  
****[YOU:] Because there’s this really nice kid who wants to meet the Christmas knight and all his friends.  
****[YOU:] And I may or may not have said “Hey, it’s possible”** **  
** **[YOU:] And she never forgets anything because I’m sure she’s part elephant.**

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] Uh.**

**[YOU:] And she really wants to leave out milk and cookies for Cap.** **  
** **[YOU:] Wait, not Cap.  
****[YOU:] I mean the knight.  
****[YOU:] And all his friends.  
****[YOU:] So what I’m saying is...What cookies would a knight like? Maybe what his friends like, too?**

It took quite a bit of time to receive a reply. In fact, Scott could picture Sam’s exasperated expression quite clearly, hands probably covering his face with the phone resting on his lap. While he was unable to know if the man was typing, he assumed that he’d also typed and erased his reply multiple times. 

It _was_ a large request to make, given the whole accords business.

The phone buzzed once again.

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] This is insane, Small Fry.  
** **[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] But we stopped caring about insanity after being twenty thousand leagues under the sea.  
** **[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] So I’ll ask. Stay safe.  
** **[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] I’ll also tell the knight you said hi.**

If Scott was still grinning at the screen long after the conversation ended, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Operation Knights Before Christmas was a go.

* * *

“So you’re going to do it.” Sam’s voice rang above the hissing of oil in the kitchen, causing Steve to look up from his phone with a questioning stare. However, once he figured out exactly what was being asked of him, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Why not?”  
  
“Well, I didn’t know that Ross had visited to give us a Get Out Of Jail Free card, but I thought you’d be the first person to be against it.” He didn’t need to see Sam’s face to know that the man was smirking; besides Nat (and potentially Bucky, who was well on his way to recovering) Sam knew how to read him, which led to Steve flushing more often than he had assumed was possible. “It’s because Scott asked, isn’t it.”

Steve ducked his head, lips pursed. “It’s just a way to check in on him in person.

“Sure...Everyone visiting is the standard for a check-in.”  
  
The safehouse wasn’t anything too fancy, but being on home soil was more comforting than any five star hotel could give them. The rogues — affectionately coined by one of King T’Challa’s royal guards — had been jumping across the globe for so long that home had become temporary by default, but they’d been lucky to have found a mission so close to what most of them considered as home. They may still have had most of their sightseeing options rejected, but at least they could order takeout with relative peace (and one of Natasha’s multiple aliases).

Regardless, Sam was right; the only reason he was considering it was that he hadn’t seen Scott in _months_ and, with all that was going on, it was now or never. 

He doubted that they’d be stateside anytime soon; it was a sneaking suspicion that he couldn’t shake. 

The couch — old, but somewhat comfortable — creaked as he turned to stare at the kitchen wall, a pout forming. “Don’t tell me you don’t want those cookies too.”

“I think _you’re_ looking for a lil’ more than cookies, Steve. A whole lot of sugar, maybe, but not only cookies—”

If it were possible for Steve to flush further, he had surely beat his record as Sam broke into friendly laughter. “Sam!”

“You know I’m right! If I need to keep watch while you meet them, I’ll do it. Just don’t overthink it, okay? The guy full on adores you. You’re not seeing things.”

“If you say so, Sam.”

“I know so. Remember, I’m the love doctor.” Despite it all, it was quite obvious that Steve was still thinking like the scrawny kid from 1940s Brooklyn, so used to getting rejected by pretty dames that getting rejected by pretty fellas was a preset default. Sam knew this, having spent many a night discussing the semantics over cheap beer and whatever concoction they’d made together in the kitchen, but he knew Steve was getting there. “My PHD is back at home.”

The fact that he’d been so ready to risk their secrecy to fulfil Cassie’s Christmas wish said enough. 

Sam’s words pulled out a laugh from the captain, followed by a small wheeze and a loud creak from the couch. He didn’t need to turn to know that Steve had entered the kitchen, probably curious as to what he was making, but also seeking to vent his thoughts while being able to see him. This wasn’t their first rodeo.  
  
By Christmas, however, he quietly hoped it would be their last.

“So, what’s the plan, lover boy?” Resting his hip on the counter, Sam crossed his arms across his apron, eyebrow raised. “Or should I say lover knight?”

Steve could only match the eyebrow raise with one of his own, stealthily plucking a piece of scrambled egg from the pan (and receiving an incredulous scoff from the chef-of-the-day). “Well...Word on the street is that Scott has been learning magic tricks...So I called in a favour.”  
  
“...You didn’t.”

“I did. She’ll let us know if she got there later.”

Sometimes, starting off a little girl’s Christmas wish with a little girl power was more than fitting.

It was right.

* * *

The snow had thickened as the days until Christmas Day shortened, leaving Scott with little choice but to watch Cassie play around in the snow from the front door. Occasionally, a snowball would be sent his way to keep him in the snowy spirits, but Cassie would soon grow tired of playing alone and ask for a cup of cocoa. 

Such was the cons of being on house arrest.

However, that day was a little different, given that Scott was the first to suggest she come in early. With Maggie and Jim having a set of work functions that would keep them out of the house until the early hours of the morning, they’d asked if Cassie could stay a few nights, which Scott had wholeheartedly accepted. 

It was the perfect time to start _The Plan,_ too _. The Plan To End All Plans._

_The Planny Plan._

“Hey, kiddo...How about practicing our baking again? Chocolate chip?”

That seemed to have the right effect on her, given the face-splitting smile he received in reply, but Scott truly experienced her excitement when she all but tugged him to the kitchen to fetch their matching aprons. 

His was pink; the front, one of a kind, was lovingly covered in magic marker stars. 

It was the best apron ever, of course. 

And with it, the best batch of chocolate chip cookies were made. 

While the cookies cooled, Cassie opted to fight the magical bathtub trolls and change into her pyjamas, slowly inching Scott (and his future houseguest) closer to the moment of truth. Cassie’s love of magic — from magical creatures to simple card tricks — had only escalated when she saw Scarlet Witch on the tv one night. He’d been sure to change the channel before the program could show what happened in Lagos, but she’d spent the rest of the night whooshing along the couch, hands waving in a cute imitation of _‘the pretty lady on tv’_. 

Wanda, while opting to stay relatively silent in terms of messages, had sent a smile when he told her. 

Well, that, and then a request for cookies with chocolate.

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] I don’t mind though. They’re made with love and that’s what matters.**

They sure were. 

However, she had yet to make an appearance — hell, Scott had not thought of how she had planned to enter the room. _She couldn’t teleport, right? Would she knock? Come through the window?_ Those thoughts bugged him as Cassie’s bedtime neared, ramping up in ridiculousness until he just dismissed them entirely. There was always the chance that she’d gotten held up, after all; the fugitive lifestyle tended to do that.

That was until Cassie’s soft thuds (from jumping on her bed) grew silent, followed by a squeal that sounded similar to a fan meeting their entire favourite boy-band at once. 

So he raced upstairs, a grin already splitting his face, only for his expression to brighten further at the sight before him. 

Cassie, in her excitement, already had her arms firmly around Wanda’s middle, face buried into her jacket to hide her babbling. Occasionally, her face would move enough to catch a clearer sound of what she was saying, but overall, Scott doubted that she’d be ready to sleep for a long while. 

“Hey Wanda.” Tone amused, he turned to his daughter. “Cassie, don’t squeeze her too hard, alright?”

“It’s alright Cassie...don’t worry.” By the sound of it, Wanda was more than happy — hell, _emotional —_ that she was getting hugged this way. It had been a rough few years for her, after all. “It’s nice to meet you. Scott says you like magic, yes?”

“Yeah.” She tipped her head up to watch her, smile just as bright as her gaze. “Can you...Can you show me? Just a little?”

That seemed to take her by surprise, eyebrows raising as she turned to her father for permission, but Scott merely nodded in reply. 

_It’s okay...She’s not afraid of you. It’s okay._

He knew a thing or two about building up confidence: Kids rarely lied when it came to being excited. 

“Just a little, and then you go to bed.”

His approval lessened the tension in her stance, which let Cassie lead her over to her bed, whispering about card tricks and how she had been practicing her hand movements.

How she’d always wanted a big sister, too, which Wanda smiled at while she chased the red strings around the room. Scott, with his shoulder leaning on the doorframe, echoed that she was free to visit whenever she could, even if he didn’t say it outright. 

_Whenever you need it, okay?_

By the way Wanda looked between the two of them — oh so welcoming, despite the world being nothing but the opposite — her gaze seemed to accept the offer. 

‘Tis the season of keeping each other company, after all.

The tray of cookies was cleared out by the time she’d left, heart a little lighter. 

Within her jacket pockets, a few wrapped cookies resided, as well as a carefully folded drawing, both warmer than any fireplace. 

* * *

As expected, Cassie was rather talkative the day after, having opted to wear red and continue her quest to learn magic. Scott, as a result, spent the entire morning fielding her questions, given that such a surprise was bound to keep her mind blown for weeks to come, but it was also a task to calm her for the upcoming night. 

It all started, of course, with a call to bake some cookies: gingerbread, to be exact. 

**[UNKNOWN NUMBER:] See you soon, man.**

Naturally, Cassie’s skepticism had her questioning stares all the more noticeable as they went through the process, trying to guess which of her dad’s super friends would be over to show her cool things for the night. She’d already guessed who was bound to appear — given that footage of the high flying Falcon made all the kids wish they could fly — but he kept his lips sealed, much to her exasperation.

Well, his lips were _mostly_ sealed, but his hands were not; having intentionally misplaced the gingerbread man cookie cutter, Cassie had settled on using the angel-shaped one instead, which made the icing that followed a little messier, but worth it once everything was left to cool. 

They were a good set of angels, all unique in their own Cassie-way, so when Scott heard a knock on the patio door, followed by Antonio scrabbling at said door, he was not surprised to see Sam looking over his shoulder and into the yard, before staring in shock at the giant ant just beyond the glass. 

“You haven’t ceased to amaze me, Scottie.” Sam’s words were mouthed as Scott opened the door, but the smile that followed gave all the warmth needed.

Within his hands, a wrapped gift rested, tag displaying **'to cassie, from the spider queen'** in looping letters. It seemed that Nat wouldn’t be joining them, but she had Cassie on her mind. 

She may have been scary, but that made Scott smile. “Glad you could make it, Sam. Guessing you can’t stay long?”

“It is how it is, these days, but I had to come over and meet the coolest girl I’ve ever heard about, yeah?”

Cassie, having followed close behind, was already gasping like a fish out of water, tugging excitedly at her dad’s nightgown. “Me?"

“Of course, Cassie.” Having entered the room, Sam crouched, making sure he was at eye-level. His smile, bright and friendly, only made Cassie laugh; it was obvious that he was good with kids. “Your dad told me that you’re the best and I believe him, so I’m here to visit this holiday. Ever made a paper airplane?”

That had Cassie nodding eagerly, which Sam noted with a laugh, expression now a little mischievous. 

“That’s great! Let me show you a super secret way to make those planes _really fly.”_

“Really?”

“Really. Let’s test it out.”  
  
The night (up until her bedtime, of course) was filled with gingerbread angels and colourful paper airplanes whizzing about, all unique in their own Cassie-way. Sam had to admit that he’d missed the amusing chaos that children brought; it had been a long time since he’d visited his nieces and nephews, participating in their active imaginations. 

Perhaps, when it all settled, he could go back and show them what he had shown Cassie, who had soon fallen asleep on the couch, now cuddling a stuffed ant ( _“Where the hell did Romanoff get that?” “Asking questions will only make you more confused, Tic Tac.”_ ). It had been a good night — a great one, in fact — but leaving before anyone was up still trumped all the fun and friendship.  
  
“You know what...This was nice.” Shouldering on his coat, Sam looked down at the giant ant running around him, a paper airplane riding on his back. “She’s a great kid, Scott, with a great dad, too.”  
  
“Oh...Really?” Something about hearing those words made Scott want to tear up, but after looking away a few times, he merely offered a smile in return. “That’s nice of you to say. I try my best.”  
  
“And I’m sure Cassie knows that, don’t worry. She adores you, man.” Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Sam made sure to squeeze slightly, before stepping away. “You’ve got a lot of people who like you, trust me; there’s so many reasons to like you...which don’t involve breaking into secure facilities.”  
  
That got a laugh out of him. “I said I was sorry, man.”  
  
“And we’ll rematch after all of this mess is sorted.” Sam found himself laughing too, expression holding no ill will from the past. In fact, he turned his head towards the box of ornaments sitting by the bare tree, looking a little less amused and a lot more thoughtful. “You guys decorating soon?”

Scott followed his line of sight, nodding. “Yeah, hopefully tomorrow when Cap—” _Steve._ “—Arrives. He’s alright with coming, right? I don’t want him to get caught because he feels that he needs to do this. You’re all wanted — double wanted, to be real — and it could all go to hell…”

He didn’t want to be the guy who got his crush thrown in prison, after all, even if his crush was currently wanted in more countries than he had fingers to count. _Was that a little obvious? It couldn’t be, right?_

Sam stared at him for a little bit longer, eyebrows furrowed as if Scott was the most interesting thing in the world, before his expression seemed to take what he saw as a moment of clarity — of triumph, perhaps. “Scott...I don’t think there’s any man on earth that would stop our mutual knight friend from fulfilling your little princess’s wish.”

“Oh, and visiting the king, of course. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” With Sam’s words still settling in Scott’s mind, he made his leave, gaze turned upwards to watch the stars. One could only hope that they would align as he predicted, but after seeing Scott’s face once he spelled it out for him, he was quite sure that they would.

Perhaps, just this once, Christmas miracles weren’t only reserved for lifetime movies.

* * *

The following day had started off similarly to the previous one, with Cassie spending a few hours outside in the snow. However, once she returned to the house, Scott noted that she was already walking over to the kitchen, occasionally looking back in open expectation.

She’d probably figured out the pattern. “So is the knight Captain America?”

 _Yup._ “I don’t know, Peanut, but what cookies do you think the knight would like?” He smiled at her pout and folded arms, knowing that his reply had only ramped up her suspicions, but she soon calmed at the prospect of another batch of cookies in the oven. Sure, it also meant another batch of dishes to wash for her father, but the sweet goodness of cookies triumphed against it all.

Cassie’s lips pursed in thought, brows furrowed as she considered the question. By the silence, Scott knew that she was going through all her options, but once she made up her mind, her smile returned, as well as her rocking on her heels. “Snickerdoodles.”

“Oh?” Scott could not say he expected that choice, already grabbing the dry bowls from the dish-rack. It was an interesting choice, given that they were not her favourites. “Why snickerdoodles?”

“Because you like snickerdoodles and you also like Captain America, so maybe he likes snickerdoodles and you too.”

“That’s nice—”  
  
_Wait._

He did a double take, noting that Cassie had already moved on, fishing in a drawer for the measuring cups and absolutely oblivious to her father having a complete meltdown behind her. “I’m sure he’ll like the cookies.” _Was it that obvious?_

“Yeah.”

_Surely it wasn’t that obvious._

That thought clung to his mind throughout the afternoon and past Cassie’s brief chaos in her quest to get ready. Given that she was both excited to decorate the tree and potentially meet another of her dad’s super-friends, it was not difficult to equate said excitement to her need to race around, soon getting followed by a curious Antonio. 

The sun was setting, the cookies had cooled and all seemed right in the world, but once he heard a knock on the front door, Cassie was already sprinting with her giant ant at her heels.

If Steve Rogers expected to be greeted by something normal on that cold winter night, he thought wrong.

At least the little tin of sugar cookies he brought was held tight, unable to be inspected by the curious giant ant at his feet, leaving him ample time to place it out of harm’s way and face the little girl jumping around him. 

While children hadn’t been at the forefront of his time in the present, Steve did appreciate their infectious enthusiasm, particularly when most of his time was spent navigating around hidden agendas and adults that were far too altruistic to be holding the positions of power they had. Kids were brutally honest, sure, but they also had that innocence that the world would soon try to corrupt, which happened to be one of the reasons he had been so against the accords in the first place.

_What would have happened to the kids who just happened to have powers, just like that spider kid from Queens, or maybe Wanda?_

However, he was not there to pick apart a moral dilemma — he could spend hours back at the safehouse doing that — so he pushed the thoughts away and pulled down the hood on his jacket, smiling down at the wide-eyed little girl before him.

 _She really was Scott’s kid, huh?_ “Hi Cassie. I’m Steve.”

“Yeah...Captain America. My dad says you’re really cool, Mr. Steve.” Now rocking on her heels, her expression only seemed to ramp up in childlike awe, her smile increasing in brightness. “Your smile is really nice.”

“Oh? Thank you.” That shouldn’t have made him feel as self-conscious as he currently felt, but once he noted Scott just out of sight, head ducked and smile directed to the floor, he felt the tips of his ears grow warm. “Your smile is pretty too.”

_Maybe it was just the air-conditioning_

“You brought cookies too?” Curious, Cassie pointed towards the tin, trying to read the label while she stood on her toes. “Daddy and I made snickerdoodles, but I wasn’t sure if you like snickerdoodles too. Most cookies are pretty good though, except maybe oatmeal cookies, because they remind me of grandma.” 

“Grandma?” Amused, Steve glanced over at Scott, who happened to be laughing behind a hand.

“Yeah! If you like them, though, it’s cool. Daddy is the world’s greatest grandma and dad too; I got him a trophy for it!” A hand pointed at the trophy sitting proudly among a few photos, mostly consisting of father and daughter in various stages of happiness. By the pride in her voice, Steve knew that the item was equally precious to both of them. “They ran out of the other ones, but it’s fine.”

“It sure is, Peanut.” Scott, walking over to shoo her away from fiddling with the trophy, briefly sent a smile Steve’s way, mouthing a brief _glad to see you’re okay_ as he herded his daughter towards the barren Christmas tree. “Now, since your Christmas wish came true—”

“Mr. Steve isn’t a knight, daddy!” Her giggle was infectious, causing Steve to chime in behind them.

“I left my armour to be...cleaned. Yes, cleaned.”

“So you’re a superhero knight? Can I be a superhero knight too? Maybe a dragon.” 

“You, Cassie,” Once they’d successfully gathered around the tree, Scott picked up an ornament and placed it in his daughter’s hands, “Can be whatever you want to be. Just dream big, alright?” 

“Alright…” She considered the words with a series of nods, before her agreement seemingly met a roadblock, causing a frown to form. “Except a dragon. Dragons are lizards — no, reptiles — right, Steve?”

Steve could not say he had met a dragon, but the logic would be quite sound for a knight; that, of course, and the fact that he had been dubbed a superhero knight, which he had to admit was a badge of honor he would wear without question. “You’re right. Dragons are reptiles.”

“Exactly! I am a person.”

“See, you’re a clever girl, eh?” A quick side hug from her father had Cassie giggling once more, but once she settled, her focus returned to the ornament in her hands, causing her to skip over and hand it to Steve. 

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to take the hint, but Cassie seemed to have guessed that superhero knights may have not decorated a Christmas tree often. _Besides, they were off protecting the kingdom from evil kings and giant dragons, so it made sense!_

“Mr. Steve, do you want to help me and daddy decorate the tree? It’s a little high.” Pausing, she gestured to the topmost regions, before shrugging, nonchalant. “But we can do it together.”

 _Together._ Looking to Scott for confirmation, just in case he was intruding on some father-daughter tradition, he was shocked to find that Scott had already started opening up another ornament box, briefly looking over with a soft smile and a slight nod. While Steve could have taken the gesture as neutral — hell, maybe just along the lines of Scott’s usual friendliness — it was hard for him not to note something else. Something that, if he was honest with himself, he had seen in the mirror countless times on the run.

 _You’re not seeing things._ Sam had said that multiple times, sigh soft and words as genuine as they came, but Steve hadn’t quite wanted to believe it. Besides, they’d barely spent much time together outside of fighting in Leipzig and then fighting through an underground prison; there had been little time to establish anything outside of sheepish glances and the odd conversation prior to Scott turning himself in. 

And yet, through it all, there he was: decorating a Christmas tree with his crush ( _Go on Steve, it’s okay to say the word!)_ and said crush’s daughter, both so welcoming and happy despite being in a situation Scott may have avoided entirely without his meddling. God, it felt so sickeningly dream-like that he almost assumed he would wake up the moment he acknowledged it, eyes darting between the tree and the little girl in turn.

If it was a dream, then it was the best one he’d had in the past year. 

If it was a dream, then he hoped he’d remember it.

“I’d be honored to help, Cassie.”

And so the decorating began, filled with scattered bits of brightly coloured tinsel, ornaments galore and Cassie opting to sit on Steve’s shoulders as she fixed the gaudy-coloured angel at the top, clapping happily once it was settled. However, between those antics (and cookies, of course) Steve had noted the shift in atmosphere between the adults with keen interest, even if his primary reaction still steered itself towards sheer nervousness. 

The gentle brushes they made whenever Scott passed seemed to pair themselves with sudden freezes and mumbled apologies, half-hearted in their execution, soft smiles on display. These only compounded when hands brushed over the same ornament, when wandering eyes caught the other staring. 

It was nerve-wracking, yet comfortable, as if time itself had placed them within a snow-globe, gently shaking until they stumbled into one another, inevitable in its nature.

Safe.

He liked that.

* * *

The night progressed in a rather calming manner, culminating with Cassie gawking happily at the shield-shaped sugar cookies ( _store bought, but still pretty good_ ), chatting animatedly about whatever crossed her mind over a mug of hot cocoa and then falling asleep on Steve’s chest. While she drifted off into her own dreams, however, Scott was pretty sure that he had gotten knocked out sometime at the start of the day, because his dream seemed to have started just as Steve arrived at his doorstep.

His presumed unconscious mind, however, was at least cool enough to form the sight before him, especially since Steve seemed to treat Cassie’s sleeping form like a cat that had sat in his lap. If anyone had barged in right then, he doubted Steve would move a muscle; in fact, he would probably tell the intruder to keep their intruding to a low volume. 

It was cute — way too cute. 

Scott openly smiled at the sight. “You okay there?”

Steve, a little drowsy himself, looked up from Cassie’s sleeping form, nodding slightly, but matched Scott’s volume with a whisper. “Of course. Guess we finally tired her out.”  
  
“It’s a mission, but a good one. She’s my world.” 

“She’s right. You are the world’s greatest grandma.”

“Hah...Then you’re the greatest knight.”  
  
“I’d...I’d hope so.” 

The silence was companionable — soft like newly fallen snow. However, with every snowfall, there would always be someone who took the first step. That first print across a ready canvas hung in the air among unsaid thoughts, unheard words.

Until it fell, indenting itself into a dimpled smile. 

A quiet offering. “If things get a little less...weird, would you come around again?”

The question had Steve look away, face flushed, but expression showing that he had already made up his mind. “Well, I wouldn’t mind it, if Cassie is okay with it.”

That threw Scott off what he wanted to say, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck as he restructured what he wanted to say. Usually, he was a man whose admiration of others came naturally, unafraid to express what he thought when it was positive, but when it happened to be within his own living room and in front of Captain-Freaking-America, words seemed to fail him. 

“Oh.” He was pretty sure that asking a national hero out on a date was far more difficult than navigating any microverse, that’s for sure. “I’m sure she’d like that, but when she’s, um, not here? Is that fine?” 

Cassie stirred slightly, causing them both to freeze, but she soon settled back down, fast asleep. 

Quiet and innocent, she slept, while two knights navigated gentle thoughts.

“I’d like that.”

Scott jumped slightly, expression openly surprised, but it soon settled into a pleased smile pure happiness radiating from his gaze. “Me too.” 

And so they stared, losing time then, but gaining it in the future whilst the snow still fell. Perhaps, when all was well and the world was calmer, they could add more prints within it, side by side, path uncharted and as unique as each tiny snowflake. 

It was dreamlike, perhaps, but all dreams began somewhere, did they not? All paths began with one single step, like a story with a single word.

Together, in time, the Christmas knight’s tale would change, adding a little princess who wanted to be a dragon, her own prints dancing around those left by her elders, and a king's sure stride, matching him step for step. Happy, they would walk.

Together, they would run, chasing the future with open hands, a bright smile and a group that kept each other safe. 

Together, it would all be okay, all in time for the next Christmas.

And the next.

And the next.

An infinite Christmas miracle.


End file.
